Chapter 12
Arthur
It felt like someone reached over me in the night and decided to do me a solid by shifting the humongous weight that had been sitting on my shoulders. Today, I feel featherlight, and it’s a welcome sensation.
I was genuinely so close to throwing in the towel last night. The dynamic between Sam, Poppy, and Ember just felt so natural. They all got on like an absolute house on fire and the conversation never seemed to run dry. It didn’t matter how many clear invitations for conversation I was offered, I still chose to ignore them, mentally cursing myself with every awkward nod I gave. My mum always calls me a wallflower, shy and introverted, and someone who will often distance themselves from others to watch from afar.
She usually said it in a way that made me sound special, “it just means you’re a good listener Arthur.”
When in reality I knew that was just code for strange. After all, what’s the point in being a good listener if you can’t then share your thoughts on what you’ve heard? I don’t know what comes over me, but it’s like my brain scans through a million different conversation fillers at rapid speed, yet I can’t think of a single one to reply. I started to feel so defeated that when Sam posed the idea of heading out for another drink, I knew I had a golden opportunity to leave. I was overwhelmed by social exhaustion, which I know sounds weird considering I offered next to no ‘social’ element during the evening, but I just knew that I couldn’t cope any longer sitting there absorbing all of their topics of conversation like an already drenched sponge. When Ember announced that she was also leaving, my legs started to work before my brain could, so much so that I was practically already halfway out the door. It’s so pathetic because in that moment, I just reminded myself of that young kid who used to run for the hills, (read: the stairs), whenever there was something as simple as a knock at the door of his childhood home. That kid was me if you couldn’t gather already.
I don’t know why I thought I could get away with running away from my problems this time, especially considering myself and said problem, were heading to the same place. She’d first called over to me and I felt mortified, cornered even. However, upon reflection, ‘trapping’ me was quite literally the best thing she could have done. Talking to Ember, I mean properly talking to Ember, felt like pulling out a splinter, whilst simultaneously ripping off a plaster. My body was grateful for the immediate sense of relief and calm. I’m in no way trying to declare myself anxiety cured and ready to take on the world with a puffed-out chest and mean stride, but, just maybe, the thought of being around her would at least be a little easier going forward.
◆◆◆
“Arthur, honey, can you hear me?,” my mum chirps through the other end of the phone.
“Yeah, mum I can hear you, but all I can see is Black. Make sure you’ve switched your camera on. Press the button with the picture of the camera,” I add, instantly regretting my suggestion of a Facetime call.
“Oh, I think I’ve found the button! Hold on one mi-,” the call completely cuts off. I take a deep sigh, willing the strength of the gods before redialling her number and hitting the camera button.
The screen of my phone lights up, “I can see you now! Hello!,” a very excited and very much upside-down version of my mum squeals.
I can’t help but laugh as I wipe my forehead, “you’re upside down now mum.”
“Give it here! She’s still not learnt the art of Facetime yet.” I hear my sister Libby say in the background as she takes charge and turns the camera the correct way around now. As I stare back at both of their beaming faces, I’m overcome with a rush of homesickness. We’d called a few times since I moved here and I’d coped pretty well with that, but this was the first Facetime. There’s just something about actually seeing them that unsettles me. It’s seeing them sitting in our living room, drinking our tea, on our sofa, with the ghost of me lingering in every room. I mean I’m not dead obviously, they’re just carrying on with their own lives as they rightly should. They shouldn’t just stop because I’m not there. But still, it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t sting any less watching it happen in real-time. Either way, I decide to push that homesickness to one side for a moment so I can update them about recent events.
“Hold on, you went on a date?,” Libby says accusingly.
“I’ll choose to ignore the fact that you sound so surprised,” I respond, “anyway, as I said before, it wasn’t even a real date, I was just doing a favour for Sam.”
I’d already caught Mum and Libby up on the whole puke-gate drama and they swore to me that they wouldn’t tell Dad. Dad doesn’t tend to get too involved in any of our family phone calls, it’s usually a quick hi and bye because he’s either too busy ‘watching the rugby’ or ‘has too much work to do.’ I got the message pretty quickly it’s safe to say. It’s a blessing in disguise though, I just know that he’d inevitably start sharing some unsolicited advice surrounding Ember that I most definitely didn’t ask for.
An hour passes and I’d say Mum and Libby are well and truly caught up with my life. Mum gushes about how proud of me she is for simply making friends, whilst Libby throws her standard sibling punches.
Just as I’m about to end the call, Libby dives closer to the screen and looks me dead in the eyes, her mouth twisting into a smirk, “when are you going to ask her on a real date then?”
I feel the heat in my cheeks rise involuntarily, which is annoying considering this makes her grin grow even wider.
I mime ripping off some tape and shoving it over her mouth, “Okay I’ve decided I don’t miss you at all,” I joke, “seriously though, never. We’re just working together for a seminar, practically acquaintances.”
“You likeeee her!,” she sings, puckering her lips and fluttering her eyelashes.
“Right on that note, I’m going now,” I laugh as I shake my head.
“Love you, honey, be safe,” mum beams.
I hear Libby start to make kissing noises. That’s the final straw.
I immediately end the call.